


Longtemps

by Eva_Swan



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Post-Season/Series 03, Romantic Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 14:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17003796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eva_Swan/pseuds/Eva_Swan
Summary: Post season 3. Karen and Matt come back from a date at Josie's, and they can't resist each other.





	Longtemps

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo... I guess this could qualify as PWP... Because there's not really any context. It's just a scene I wish we could've seen on the show. It's only the second time I write smut and it's not my forte, so I hope this one will be okay. Just know it's LIGHT, FLUFFY smut. The only kind of smut I can write!
> 
> Also, I wrote this fic for I-will-go-down-with-this-ship from Tumblr. She asked me to write something based on a French song, "Longtemps" by Amir (hence the title). I wrote this listening to the instrumental version (as well as "Woman in Love" by Barbra Streisand... it just set the right mood for this ficlet).

They had spent the night at Josie's. They had both figured they might as well stick to what they knew, so as to avoid the awkwardness of a fancy bar.

Sure, Josie's was _not_ the most romantic place in New York. The drunks, the absence of any decent drink, the heat, the smell... But somehow, it felt like home. Karen loved to see Matt's face covered in neon lights, pink and blue fading to purple in his eyes, and Matt loved playing pool with her. However, they had to try _really_ hard not to kiss each other while in there. If they did, they'd end up making love on that pool table in a heartbeat.

 That summer night, they almost had failed.

So they left the bar and walked to Karen's place, half wishing for some rain to help them cool off, half wishing to just disappear and pop into a bed. They remained quiet, both thinking back on the night of their first kiss. One year had passed. Everything had changed. But, strangely enough, it felt like walking into a memory.

When they finally reached her building, they didn't sit on the stairs, they didn't let the weight of the world fall upon their shoulders. They just kissed. Again, and again, and again. They kissed until they were out of breath, until the earth stopped spinning.

 

“Tonight...” Matt said in between two kisses, panting. “Tonight has been perfect.”

She smiled against his lips and caressed his temple. “Let me guess,” she whispered, “you're gonna go home because you have this incredible ability to bring disaster to the best things in your life?”

Matt scoffed, his own words ringing in his head. “I was gonna say I was eager to see where the night could lead us, but...”

She pressed her hands onto his chest and hung her head. “Oh,” she said, “no, no, I'm...” She stopped and took a good look at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Woah, you're a genius, Murdock. Making me feel bad about this when you're the one that's guilty.”

“Sorry, that wasn't fair,” he cooed before kissing her again. “But I mean it. If... If you want this.”

She bit her lower lip and nodded, her hands gradually leaving his chest to reach his belt. “Yes,” she answered languidly. “I want this, Matt. I want _you_.”

“Good,” he rasped.

 

She smiled, took his hand, and led him inside the building. Every now and then, he pinned her body against the walls and kissed her, hard, and it took them twice as much time as necessary to reach her apartment. When they got to the door, she grabbed him by the tie and drew him to her. She peered at his full lips and crushed her mouth on his, avidly. She couldn't resist him. She _needed_ him. No foreplay would be needed tonight.

 

“Karen...” he breathed against her neck, when she finally set him free.

“Matt?” she echoed, her left hand buried in his hair.

“Could you open the door before we get naked in the hallway, please?”

 

She covered her mouth and giggled, thinking about her neighbors. Poor Mrs Larkin. She fished the keys out from her bag and opened the door swiftly as Matt kept dropping kisses down the nape of her neck. As soon as the door was closed, he grabbed her by the waist and took her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and burst out laughing.

 

“Matt, what on earth are you doing?”

He smirked. “We're getting a room, Ms Page. I'm a gentleman.”

“Good to know,” she quipped.

 

He kissed her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her heart was pounding against his, their breaths erratic. So much for taking things slow.

 

Suddenly, she was on the bed, him standing in front of her. He gave her a devilish smile and took to unburden her of her skirt. She let him, and once he was done with her, she stood upright and unbuckled his pants. He scoffed and helped her. He then hovered over her and she fell back onto the mattress. Her hands cupped his cheeks and then reached the buttons of his shirt.

 

“Why are you not _completely_ naked yet, Mr Murdock?” she teased before wetting her lips.

“Because I want you to keep undressing me, Ms Page.”

“Is that it?” She kissed him lightly. “Then buckle up, Daredevil.”

 

She flipped him over to his surprise, and straddled him. She laughed, seeing how confused he looked. “Be careful what you wish for,” she purred into his ear. He swallowed and remained quiet. He had completely surrendered to her. She smirked and unbuttoned his shirt, ever so slowly. She left the tie on. She simply removed it from his chest, and started to leave a trail of hot kisses all over it. He shivered. She knew about his heightened senses, but she didn't know how human contact felt for him. She couldn't possibly know. Her lips were like velvety embers against his skin. He could feel her heartbeats through the flesh of her lips, in her tongue, her fingertips.

She then stopped, and took off her shirt. A memory flashed before her eyes. The night they met. She had executed the same routine. She taken off that awful NYPD shirt in the purple light of the billboard, thinking he was blind, and he was. But he must have seen her, somehow. He must have _known_ she was naked then. He must have felt a change in the air when she had removed her shirt, or the warmth emanating from her bare skin. Her lips twitched upwards, and she slowly unhooked her bra before dropping it to the mattress. They both remained still for a few seconds, not daring to move. She drank in the sight of him beneath her, all the tension and desire of the last three years coursing through her veins and pumping through her heart... and probably through his. She felt his hesitation. He wanted her, that much was clear, but she knew he thought he didn't deserve this... her. She felt the same about him. But they were taking a chance on happiness. It was now or never.

She took one of his hands, and put it on her breast. “It's all for you, Matt,” she whimpered.

He propped himself on his elbow and his free hand left the warmth of her hands to brush her breast. His fingers then slowly trailed down her stomach, and right before they reached their destination, she grabbed the tie she had let on and drew him to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his chest against her breasts. His lips captured hers and she moaned against his mouth.

 

“I can't...” she tried to say as he kissed his way down her neck.

“Can't what, sweetheart?” he teased, his hands leaving her waist to hug her butt cheeks.

Her whole body ached with need. “Matt...” she pleaded. “Now.”

“Come again?” he said, grinding against her.

He was so infuriating. She laughed and tugged at his earlobe with her teeth, earning a heartfelt grunt from him. “You were saying?” she cooed.

 

He grinned and hugged her tighter, effectively lifting her up. She took that as a cue and slowly sank down on him and moaned, louder than she had intended to. Her hands raked through his hair while he hungrily kissed her breasts. There was something about the scent of her skin. Not her perfume, just the raw, untainted essence of her body. He was intoxicated with it. He pressed his forehead between her breasts as she rocked back and forth over him, somehow both lulled and aroused by her deep and raspy sighs. His heart thudded in his ears. He cupped her cheeks and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. She dug her nails deeper into the skin of his back. He was everywhere. Inside her, on her lips, in her head. She felt dizzy.

Without warning, he pulled her hips down harder and she cried out. Her blood was roaring in her ears, and in his. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, unable to think of anything but the feeling of his breath setting her skin ablaze. It was painfully slow, the motion of their bodies. Gentle, yet sizzling. She thought she couldn't want anything more in this world. This was all she needed, all she wanted. Wearing out her skin on his, forever.

Her rolled her over and nestled between her open legs. Silk sheets. She knew how cotton felt against his skin. She had planned this, or at least hoped for this moment. The thought sent electricity down his body. He pinned her wrists and dropped kisses along her jawline as he rocked inside of her, and she whimpered.

 

“Don't you stop...” she pleaded.

 

He grinned against her needy mouth. He could feel her arch her back underneath his body. She hooked a leg around his waist and his hands left her wrists, hungry for her body. They ghosted over the neck she was offering to him, and he traced her jugular vein, pounding loud and hard. Suddenly, the pace they had set became more erratic, more demanding, urgent. She threw her hands around his neck and brought his face to hers. She placed a finger on his half-opened lips, as if to try to print their shape on her fingertips, and then kissed him. The feeling of him pulsing inside of her was driving her to the edge.

Matt grunted. She had no idea what she did to him. Words could not describe what sex felt like for him. It was an explosion of sensations, all mingling, up to the point at times he didn't know whether he smelled or tasted or touched. And when feelings were involved... He forgot it all. Even his name. Only hers danced on his tongue.

 

“Karen... Karen...” he murmured shakily.

 

His body tensed and she clenched around him. Her hands tugged at the sheets. Fire was pooling low in her abdomen. There was no telling whether it was night or day, summer or winter. Hell, she didn't even know _where_ she was anymore. He groaned against her collarbone as both their bodies went limp. They remained like this for a few seconds, catching their breaths. Her chest rose and fell under his. He rolled over, relished the feeling of the silk sheets against his back, but already missed her skin. He took her hand and brought it to his lips.

 

“That...” she began, still panting. “That was something. Nothing close to disaster.”

He chuckled. “Glad you enjoyed it, Ms Page.”

 

She giggled, and suddenly he couldn't think of anything but the thin sheen of sweat on her shoulder. He propped himself on one elbow and kissed it away, salt now covering his lips. She turned around so as to face him, and stroked his cheek. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

 

“What is it?” he asked playfully, feeling her gaze.

“Nothing, I just...” she replied in a sigh. “I wish this could last a hundred years.”

He drew her closer to him, until her face was buried in his chest and his hands safely wrapped around her. “Longer than that, Karen,” he said. “Longer than that.”

 

 


End file.
